A Candle in the Dark
by Skykhanhunter
Summary: A story about the unknown side of the most feared Jedi Hunter in the Galaxy. Please read and review.I don't own anything in this story except the plot. That's my only disclaimer.
1. Chapter 1

**A Candle in the Dark**

It was night. The wind rustled through the leaves of the trees bringing an extra chill to the air. It brought a shiver to a few members of the assembled group of beings who stood at the edge of the clearing of the forest. There they sat, waiting for a seemingly endless time. The sky was dark, yet the stars shone in the two score yellow eyes that waited, gazing upwards in swift anticipation. What they were awaiting was one thing that is best left unsaid for the moment. Rather, look at the state that they were in. The children, at the front, were all somewhat pasty, their skin, which should have been a light bronze was a sort of pasty gold. Their eyes were tired and their frames were plainly visible. The women, their skin should have been a darker bronze than the children's, but they too were off colour. But in their eyes was a gleam, it shone with a steady beat. That gleam was hope! One look in those eyes and it was clear to see that they were rising, they were climbing back up out of a pit of despair, returning from the brink of death. It does raise the question of who they were waiting for, but by now the answer should be obvious. They were waiting for the one who had been their hero, they were waiting for the return of a leader, a saviour. For the women present, they awaited their husband, for the children, their father.

Many years ago he had saved their world, he and his demigod partner. He had commanded the armies that had driven the Soulless Ones from their world, and then followed them till they were on their knees and begged for help. Until the traitorous outsiders had given assist. They had driven their people into the dirt and crushed them. Many starved and died, even some of his children. Most of his wives still remembered the anguished screams of rage and loss that had torn from his parched throat as he held the body of his youngest child and beseeched the gods to stop torturing him. Even the youngest of his children remembered the fiery oaths he had sworn to make the outsiders regret and grieve for what they had done. They had crippled the land, they had stripped it of all that was of worth! Brutally and ferociously they had been destroyed until they were forced to eat the bark off the trees to survive. Then had come the hardest day of all for them when a different group of off worlder's had come with a bargain. If he left his people would be saved. His family could remember the difficulty he had faced before he had left, sacrificing his own life for the sake of his people. Only one of his wives had realized at the time the intense need in him to keep fighting, to keep attacking, to keep from remembering the friend he had lost in the war. For four years he had been gone before he had returned in a blaze of glory. Then to have him stolen away once more as his ship was destroyed in fire and smoke, and his body robbed by outlanders who did not deserve to touch the sacred thing he had become in death, the torture was too much for his family.

But they had recently received hope. He was still alive. And so they waited for his inevitable return. For return he would, the most famous of his father's sons. Hero of the Kaleesh, head of his clan and warlord of his people, Qymaen jai Sheelal

Better known as General Grievous.


	2. Chapter 2

Memory

**Memory**

Out of the darkness in the sky came a low humming. The noise of an approaching shuttle. This was the shuttle that would return their reborn father and husband to them.

Soon the slight shape of the craft became visible in the dark. A thrill sped through the children. Many of them couldn't remember their father at all, a few remembered the tall imposing figure who inspired them to go on and become warriors as well. None of them were even old enough to reach that age, but they all still wanted to be like him, the fearless demigod of his people who slew Huk like a harvester with grain, and who was more brave than any, even a Jedi. He could do anything and he was coming home. Only the eldest child wondered whether or not his father would be able to stay for a longer time than the last.

The wives also were deep in thought. Most of them were remembering the last time their lord and master had been with them, his tenseness and rage as he had known of the desecrations long before his return. As he often did he had sat in their company for much of the night and spoken with them about what he intended to do. Three or maybe four of his wives knew that when he did so, he wasn't really talking to them. He was talking to the dead love of his life who had never been his. He merely sat in their company so that there would be someone to listen to him. But they all remembered his fire and his fierce devotion to his ideal of a family. He would never give them up if at all possible, he would never leave them. But it was duty not love which kept him there. He was searching for something that he would never have ever again. But he had long ago accepted that and had changed his name to describe what he now was. What he had become, what he had let happen to himself. If there was a word to describe him, it was unforgiving, but that was unforgiving towards himself and his enemies. Towards those he cared about, he was so much more than his public face.


	3. Chapter 3

Okay people here it is. The chapter you have all been waiting for. The one where we finally meet the man (or cyborg) of the hour. Please not I do not own him. The film would have been so much cooler if I did. He would have fought like in the cartoons.

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**Him**

Onboard the shuttle in question sat a dark and brooding figure, completely absorbed in reflection. It had been years since he had been to this world, or had it been merely days? He wasn't sure. Time seemed to matter so little anymore. Nothing mattered much to him anymore, anything but revenge. Yet some part of him strained to return him to what he thought must have been a normal life before his recent transformation. So recent that he could remember the waking in pitch black and screaming to the high heavens in utter agony! He remembered the torture he had endured when he felt the air on the ravaged skin of his eye sockets, the fire that burned in every other part of him! He thought back to the day he had woken again, surrounded by a yellow green liquid and seeing through a pair of goggles whilst his breath rasped through the rebreather stitched onto his mouth and nostrils that pumped gaseous fire into his throat! The shock of numbly discovering he had no limbs or lower torso left. He still remembered what had happened when the cowardly strangely familiar figure beyond the glass had proposed his new life to him. Despite being bereft of any ability to move naturally, when he heard the treacherous offer, he had still somehow managed to move forward towards this piece of poodoo that tried to threaten him! With grim satisfaction the figure relished the memory of the reaction he had gained, the coward falling backwards over his own robes in fear at the Kaleesh's move.

But no one could hold out forever. The Count, Dooku, now he was a warrior worthy of respect. The being respected worthy warriors who were capable of staring him down, him the… the what. What had he been before all of this? Before he had accepted the offer to gain revenge on the Jedi, the ones who were responsible for all his grief over… whatever it was that that haunted his dreams at night. The Jedi! Their very name brought a metallic taste to his mouth as he thought of the revenge he was to take on them. But his concentration slipped! He was drawn to his memories of his nightmares. The images he retained. He remembered, a woman. A female of his species he felt a kinship to. More than a kinship, he felt as if she was his heart sister, his perfect companion. He also remembered another image, of that woman standing impaled on a barbed spear, before toppling backwards off the platform into the sea. He knew instinctively that it had been his fault. More images followed that. A room full of women, all of them his, but none completing him. They had been a brief respite from the pain, and over time had helped him to deal with his grief, to deaden the pain somewhat in the family he had to provide for. If only for that he was eternally grateful to them.

But then a thought struck him. How would that family, the very destination he was on his way to, respond to his new form. His thought snapped back on track. The Count offering him the opportunity to become more powerful, to have the ability to take his war to the ultimate prey, the Jedi! He had leaped at the chance, taken all he could, then snapped at the mere mention of his no longer being sentient. He had then displayed his new power before all and sundry by destroying the best soldiers the other worlders had to offer. Soldiers! He scoffed at the thought, droids being soldiers, it was ridiculous. Yet he had worked with what he had. His people would never again let him have a living _Izvoshra_ but he had demanded a new one to match his new life.

His new life. He stared at his hands. Would he be able to be a father, with these hands? Could he be a husband with these hands? What he stared at were talons of durasteel and bronzium armour. He was in effect a walking semi-living piece of starship armour. While his system was hardwired into the electrical nerves of this suit he would never be able to feel anything through it. He would never embrace a wife, he would never be able to clasp a sons shoulder in pride, he would never be able to return a daughters hug. Nothing would ever be physically there for him evermore. It was so depressing he almost wept. But, of course, his new life meant he never could.

He pulled himself together. Armour or not he had a duty!

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The next chapter will the the family reunion. Stay tuned people.


	4. Chapter 4

Okay. Sorry I have taken so long to upload these stories. I was in Scotland for the weekend. Pattern now is, expect an update every, say three days. Cos I'm working on some other new ventures.

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**Reunion**

Out of the night sky the shuttle descended. Insectoid and sinister it cut through the night air like a lance, and all the children shivered at the sight of it. Down it came, the whine of it's engines causing an almost unnatural chill in the air. Slowly it came lower and lower. Finally, for all there it had become the moment of truth.

The children, despite their expectations, were feeling a slight sense of both fear and anticipation. For some this would be their first time meeting their father and actually knowing who he was. For the elder children this was the father who had left them to pursue a vendetta with the galaxy at large for some unexplainable. The eldest son waited with more than just a hint of fear, but a different fear. Would his father be proud of what he had become? Would his father even remember him? How could all these questions be answered, except by his demigod of a father. A point of interest for him. Often he had lain awake and thought of his father, the one he wanted to be! He wanted to be the hero of the Kaleesh, the saviour of their people, just as his father had been! A warrior to the core! Soon those questions would be answered.

For the wives, it was a similar remembrance. But they remembered the last time he had returned to him. Two of his wives were in love with him, or at least what they remembered of him, to the point where they had staved off all other contact, save their own families. The eldest and head wife knew of this, and also knew that they were to be disappointed when their master returned and hardly looked at them with affection. She had borne her husband and lord four children, and not once had he looked at them with love. But she knew of his struggles and she knew of their laws, so she stood by him. Despite everything and despite the knowledge that he would never consider her as anything more than second best she still was a wife of the Sheelal house. Duty meant more than love, and he offered her much more than she would have believed possible.

Onboard the shuttle, Grievous considered for a moment if he had been mistaken in his returning. He had no love for this family of his, all that remained was the knowledge that they existed and that he was responsible for all of them, their safety and their wellbeing. Therefore he must behave as a true father and husband should. One of his bodyguards stood up.

"We have arrived, sir."

The doors of the shuttle opened and the ramp extended. The assembled Kaleesh held their breath. In the darkness at the top of the ramp there suddenly glowed three red dots. Down the ramp came huge figures with fearsome glowing red eyes and chests, draped in _Izvoshra _robes and bearing polearms with blades on both ends. As they reached the foot of the ramp, the children shied away from them and some of the wives shielded their little ones from them. But it didn't matter because the guards, for that was what they were, split into two ranks on either side and waited there. The gaze of all present returned slowly to the black hole in the ships hull where the General was approaching.

There came the slow clank, clank, clank of metal on metal. A huge hulking black shape became visible in the shadow. It paused. Then a huge clawed foot stepped out of the darkness and planted itself on the ramp! Forty sets of eyes were riveted on it. Then came another! Slowly the eyes of the Kaleesh rose up, taking note of the the arched legs, the heavily armoured torso, the long six fingered arms the massive Kaleesh cape that covered his shoulders and reached all the way down to his clawed feet and finally the mummu mask that comprised his face!

"I am General Grievous. I have returned to you my… family!"

At that point the two youngest screamed.

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What will happen next? please read review and an update will be here shortly.


	5. Chapter 5

Okay short chapter I know, I'm under pressure at the moment due to work and only one computer in the house so this one is shorter than normal. Apologies.

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**Honour**

No one moved in the entire group as the huge behemoth in front of them moved with an awkward gait down the ramp towards them. The two kids in the front were still trying to hide their tear streaked faces from this monstrosity that called itself their father! The other children were vainly trying to hide their discomfort and keep their backs straight, but they were failing miserably.

Grievous in vain tried to walk properly towards the line of twenty something children who were trying not to show their fear. This he noticed with some amusement and mostly anger. The inept medics who had put him together had left him looking like a freak that was a nightmare from someone's imagination. It would earn him the hatred of all! For a moment he wondered whether or not this had been the intent from the very beginning or what was exactly the plan behind all of this? He was a war machine pure and simple, they should accept that.

The children in the ranks all shied back as the creature walked right up to them and halted. Tall for a Kaleesh originally, he had been made even taller by the mechanical enhancements placed upon him and he towered above them all! Suddenly he stooped until his face was all but on the same level as the two crying babies at the front.

"Look at me!" he commanded.

They tried to run into the throng of young ones behind them but they were frozen with fear.

"Look at me now!" he repeated in a tone that brooked no disobedience.

They turned still crying and sobbing.

"Stop crying, that is an order! There will be no crying while I am here. I am your father children, and we are Kaleesh! We do not break down at the first sign of something we fear! You will learn to obey me and to guard yourselves against all that you fear!" he stood and addressed them all.

"All that you see before you I have had to sacrifice to keep all of you safe from harm and alive. Is this how you thank me?"

The wives had stepped back as soon as he had disembarked. Now they regained their senses and acted as wives of a returning hero should. They whispered to the children and the children all bowed. The eldest wife, as befitted her place was first as she also knelt and said, "Welcome home my lord."


	6. Chapter 6

Here we are. Flashback alert, we will have flashbacks in this chapter. Hope they will be good. As always, please review!

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**Home**

The doors to the house of the clan of Sheelal burst open. In the doorway silhouetted against the darkness outside was the huge figure of Grievous stood in the doorway. His family crowded around some distance behind him. They questioned what had brought this up in him, this fierce movement ahead of them, into the village and back to what had once been his home. They could not guess the truth.

He remembered. As they walked out of the woods into the clearing that led towards the village. He remembered…

_A parade, hundreds of cheering Kaleesh, the sunlight reflecting on their raised standards. The victorious army marching back, their weapons carried proudly and their heads held high. The village was crowded with hundreds of adoring inhabitants. They marched solidly up the hill towards the platform where they would receive their accolades from the people and their chief. The sun of Kalee shone down on them with great vigour, the gods must be pleased. The chief of high clan Sheelal awaited the valiant fighters who had rid the area of the voracious Huk! As the warriors halted, they turned to face their chief. He stepped out from behind the ranks of the crowds. He was tall, very tall, with strong limbs and proud face and fierce golden eyes. He stalked forward and halted before the assembled group. Despite his great age, he still stood without support and addressed them with a clear voice. _

"_You have vanquished the Huk, my brothers, and you have procured for us a time of peace and plenty. We are indebted to you for this great service and we will honour you in our prayers and our songs!"_

_There were great cheers. Then the old leader turned to his son and said, "Tell me captain of my sons services, was he obedient, diligent, courageous and self sacrificing?"_

_The captain stepped forward and replied, "In all my seasons, never have I seen a beast so skilled with the rifle, nor so brave in the face of great danger! Your son, Qymaen, is a credit to both you and your entire clan, my lord Vergase. His skill will become legendary!"_

_At this point he was thrust forward and he shouldered his rifle as best he could and knelt at his fathers feet. _

"_Father I have returned to you bearing this gift."_

_From under his cloak he brought out the barbed spear of a Huk warmonger he had killed in hand to hand combat. Reaching out to it his father sighed as he took it. _

"_You have done well my son, despite your age."_

_Ten year old Qymaen bowed again as the crowds erupted…_

He stood and looked around the room in complete silence.

_His father, he sat in that chair. _

He strode over to it. It now seemed so much smaller and less important now that he was there. His father was dead.

_His father lying in state as the twenty year old Qymaen stood stock still and gazed at the spear he had given him ten years ago as it lay resting at his side. His first trophy, dedicated to his teacher…_

He banished the thoughts and turned to his assembled kin. Then he sat in his chair.

"At last. It had been so long since I was last in this house. Enter and let the Lord of Clan Sheelal receive you."


	7. Chapter 7

Okay Chapter 7. Family problems start now!

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**Confrontation**

For some time the eldest son stared at his father and tried to understand the conflicting emotions that raged within his chest. The first was anger. This ugly thing in front of him claimed to be his father and yet seemed to be nothing but metal and wheels! Worse yet his _droid _abominations had been allowed to enter this noble house and defile it with their very presence! Everything in him wanted to grab his swords and to destroy them on the spot, to rip them to shreds with his Lig swords and his rifle.

The other half of him felt fear! Could this thing really be his father? What had happened to him, how had he left in the first place when all that he had ever needed was right here on this planet, his home? Nothing was as it should be, and that was what caused the worm of dread which had crept into his stomach. His father could be dead and this thing just is a copy to try and deceive the Kaleesh once more.

Grievous noticed the eldest boy watching him intently. Though there were no expressions on his face the warlord was too good of a judge to be fooled. The boy it would appear did not like him. No wonder, he was a cyborg, no longer flesh and blood, but only metal and synth. No child would ever believe him to be a real person. Forever he would be the outcast and rejected. Inside him anger began to burn! His despair fed his rage and he growled to himself. His wives were busy with the young and only this fool had remained to keep an eye on him.

The son waited and looked at his supposed "father" again. The claws and armour clearly had been designed for a war machine. What was more humorous was the fact that whoever had designed the suit had no idea how Kaleesh looked. They did not have a leg design like that. They had a digitigrades stance, and that was in no way a digitigrades stance. It only sharpened his view that this was not his father. This was someone's stool pigeon. He barked a short sharp laugh.

Grievous had watched the boy inspecting his armoured body, as if checking to see if it was real. His suspicion mounted as he watched the eyes of this snickering fool. When the boy laughed Grievous felt something snap inside of himself and he sprang!

The boy gasped for breath. He had not expected his father to be that fast or that strong after the comical display of his inability to walk at the shuttle! Now he was pinned up against the wall by one of those huge hands that was squeezing the life out of his throat! He couldn't feel the ground beneath his feet! He looked down. He had been lifted almost a metre into the air by this monster! He looked up and saw the eyes that were looking at him. They were devoid of all emotions, save rage!

Grievous stared into the eyes of his captive!

"Qymaen no!" screamed a females voice from the doorway!

He turned his head. His first wife was looking at him with a pleading look in her amber eyes.

"Don't kill your oldest son. Please don't break my heart again!"

Odd, he actually loosened his grip. The woman had suffered enough. The boy began to breath again, but he still didn't drop him!

"Look into my eyes. Look into them! Do you see anything funny in these? What is there that is amusing about my appearance? Dou you think I like it? Or do I just wear this to improve your comic hour!" his voice was a hiss of pure venom! "I will let you go this time boy, but if you dare to mock me again while I am here, I will take one of my guard's weapons and sear the flesh off your scalp myself."

He dropped him. "Now go to bed and don't trouble me again until tomorrow!"

To his immense satisfaction his son didn't panic and run. Instead he turned and walked away without a sound. Grievous turned to his wife.

"You."

He considered what to say next. There were too many possible questions to be answered. He waved them all off.

"Do not call me by my name in their presence again. I will not forbid it when we are alone, but you must show proper respect to a warlord when we have company. Do you understand?"

Her eyes blazed with a fury that he knew was well founded.

"I understand, my lord!" it was a statement which deserved punishment, but Grievous let it pass.

"Then go to my harem, I will follow shortly."

She left. He sat and looked at his hands for a moment. As he did so a single train of thought ran through his mind. _I nearly killed my own son! Will they ever see past this shell and let me live again?!_

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Next chapter, Grievous and his harem. Things are not going to be easy!


	8. Chapter 8

Now e come to the part which will cause all male readers to feel immense pity for the protagonist. Read on!

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**Harem**

Of course there was now the problem of the harem. What use could he now have for a harem, he could feel nothing physically and even if he was still capable of feeling through his hands, his entire lower torso had been removed. The huge cyborg sat longer then he would have liked thinking over this problem. Finally he rose and decided that it would not hurt to see if his wives were in good health and to make enquiries.

The Kaleesh harem is a hugely significant thing. All males are expected to produce as many children as possible, and for this task it is necessary for them to have as many wives as possible, to increase the numbers of new warriors to aid in their fights. Kaleesh always fought, whether with themselves or with other, and fresh forces were needed for the battle. Any daughters increased the number of wives a skilled warrior would be able to have. Grievous had been a warlord but not keen on having a huge number of wives, so he had settled for ten only. (After his death and subsequent elevation to the Kaleesh pantheon as the God of War having more then Ten wives was considered sacrilege.)

Now his nine wives were waiting in the harem. Most of them would have preferred to be in their own rooms and not to be here, waiting for a lord that would no longer have any use for them. It was quiet, all of them questioning whether they would be able to abide this abominations presence. Suddenly the heavy doors separating them from the rest of the house opened and their lord stepped through. They all knelt, partly of fealty and partly of fear. They had all heard the shocking tale of their lord strangling his own son and none of them were under any illusions that he would be as merciful to them. He had no mercy. Even as they bowed they knew that their lord was not paying them any attention.

Grievous stood stock still as he looked at all the kneeling women. Suddenly in his mind he was swept away to a long forgotten time…

_The warlord entered the chambers of his wives. Years had passed since it had been his father's sanctum, and now it was his. All ten of his wives were here, all of them kneeling in supplication. He wanted to spit out the foul taste in his mouth when he looked at them all! None of them would ever, ever, be able to fill this void in him, he knew as he looked at them all. And yet for some reason he did not regret bringing them all here. Most had been political marriages that he'd had to endure and his eldest wife had been the daughter of an old family friend, she would be his primary source of children. He needed sons, plenty of them, to go on the warpath once more! So it was her he selected and took with him to the conception chambers!_

That had been nearly ten years ago. Now was different. He needed these women to help him learn to become more than a machine. He walked forward to the centre of the room and stood there, his mind once again many years in the past.

_He had returned from the wars yet again! Could nothing end his torment and let him go! In a fury Qymaen strode into his harem in a fury! He needed something to take his mind off all of this, but instead of picking a random wife and taking her to his chambers, he surprised himself by sitting in the middle of the floor. _

"_They keep coming!"_

_They were three words, but they meant so much on this world. His wives goggled at him. Only four were there of course and they had been surprised by his appearance._

"_I keep trying but they still keep coming! Never in a many numbers, but they still throw so much at our defences. I cannot keep doing this." With that he laid his head in his arms and just sat there. _

_Suddenly he felt a pair of arms, then another, and another, encircle his shoulders._

"_They are tenacious my lord, but they will fall before your glory! All who face you do."_

"_Yes my Lord, you are our finest commander. Many battles would we have lost if it had not been for you!"_

_Thus he had learned what having wives was good for, besides new warriors. They could comfort._

Grievous sat in the same position he always remembered doing in the centre of the floor. He looked up.

"I remember this."

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As always, please review!


	9. Chapter 9

Okay the italics are flashbacks for those of you who haven't figured it out.

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**Silence**

Daylight crept through the doorway of the clan house. The shadows crept inch by inch across the floor, bathing every pebble and loose stone on the surface in golden light. Slowly the light slid over the large clawed feet of the general. He sat in his chair completely still, only the flicker of his eyes taking note of the movement of morning. Outside the sun was rising over a clear sky and a landscape. A world still at peace, a morning which had all but left night behind. It was so quiet. He remembered this as well. Silence. The night creatures gone to their beds and the day creatures not yet awake. The hour of silence. That was what they called it, all mothers told their children. He remembered himself and his older brother waking up early to try and catch the sunrise. Of course it ended very quickly. For half a standard hour before the sun rose, the world was silent, but half an hour into the sunrise, it woke. He felt privileged to see it once again. He had left the harem several hours earlier, to allow his wives to sleep. For many hours he had listened to them and added what all he knew of his past since the crash. Then as they one by one had fallen asleep he had left them. This had surprised him. It didn't seem like something he would do, but he had done it nevertheless. The rest of the night he had spent in this chair, watching the door. Even the guards had gone on standby, their photoreceptors losing their glow and their stances relaxing, but he was no longer able to sleep. It had been burned out of him along with most of his former life.

There was a small soft sound in the hallway. Golden eyes tracking Grievous watched the corner intently. If some threat had gotten into his home, then by the gods he was going to rip it to shreds! Around the corner came the sound of two little voices.

"Come on! It's the hour of silence and it's nearly over!"

"Don't want to! I want to go to sleep!" the other voice was petulant, sulky and still tired.

Two of his children stumbled into view. Both were still in their night robes and the younger was trailing behind the older one, still rubbing sleep out of it's eyes.

"_Come on Qymaen! Don't you know this is a very special time. They say the whole world slumbers at this time of night and you can't hear a thing! It's the hour of silence!"_

"_Kaskin, I'm too sleepy for all this, I want to go back to bed!"_

"_Could you imagine if we shouted right now…!"_

"_No!"_

"_You're no fun Qymaen!"_

"_Don't care!"_

Grievous snapped back to the present. Two sets of eyes were sating at him with frightened expressions. For a moment they stood and stared at each other. Then he realise they were looking at a monster which was sitting in an armchair with his cape wrapped around him! Grievous did the first thing that came to mind. He put a finger to his lips, or rather where his lips should have been. The two children breathed. He returned his gaze to the doorway. Absolute silence still reigned.

Out in the forest a single avian began to sing a single sweet note. It continued slowly, building itself up into swelling solo which swept out across the newly sunlit lands and back again. Then it was joined by another, and thus began a harmony. The harmony ended and was gathered into a massive swelling chorus which rose to greet the newly risen sun and to announce the start to a new day!

Grievous beckoned the two to him. They came slowly still looking out the doorway where the song had reached its crescendo and was progressing into it's second movement. The two reached him and climbed up onto his knees which were cushioned by the heavy cloak wrapped over them. Grievous put his arms around the two to keep them from falling and said as quietly as he could, "That was "The Song of the Morn". My bothers and I would creep out of our beds when we were young and try to see the Hour of Silence. It was amazing and it still is."

"Why did you get a new body father?"

Grievous was silent for a moment. It was such an innocent question yet it was one that had no easy answer.

"I had an accident. The only way I could live again was with this armour."

"It's too scary father."

Grievous would have smiled at that simple statement if he still had a mouth. Instead he was silently amused.

"You only need be afraid if you've been naughty!"

The only response was quiet breathing. Grievous looked down to see two children fast asleep in the folds of his cloak. In a gesture that he would never repeat anywhere but in his home ever again, he quietly and gently undid the clasp, slid out of it using his extra arms and placed the two in the centre, before folding the cloth over them.

When the wives came in later they found the two asleep in the chair and their husband lying across the doorway, so that nothing could come in the door to disturb them.

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Nice one ain't it. As always, please review!


	10. Chapter 10

Okay sorry about the delay to all my loyal readers but I have my cousins down for the week and they have to take precedence. Anyhoo, here is the next chapter. Action time!

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Watcher

The Lord of clan Sheelal opted to go and practise with his guards instead of sharing food with his family, something he could not do in any regards anyway. It was a sad fate that his ability to eat and feel and taste had all been denied him. The best way for him to sidestep all of this was to avoid being in a situation where his lack of "appreciation" for food would not be remarked on. So it made a nice change to be able to go and fight for a change.

As always the battle had put him in good humour and high spirits. As he returned to the house he noticed something. His eldest, the boy who had mocked him the previous evening, was sparring with an elder warrior. This should be somewhat interesting. Without letting himself be seen Grievous slipped into his shaded porch of the house and kept his eyes peeled.

The battle was short sharp and fierce. The boy swung his sword in an arc that was just not fast enough. Pathetically easy for someone like the master who countered with a swift blow which knocked the sword out of the boys hand before sweeping around, clipping his ankles with the flat and dumping the boy on his back! The boy winced in pain and struggled to stand. The swordmaster sighed.

"My apologies Master Sheelal, but your work is not up to standard. You will need to practice more than this if you hope to progress."

"How can I if I don't have anyone to practice with!" the boy spat out the words with a vehemence Grievous could sense would be anathema to any beast which crossed his path.

The swordmaster seemed to show some regret when he said, "It should have been your father teaching you these things, not I. He was a master of both sword and gun, a true warrior! Alas that he is gone. We will not see his like ever again."

As the boy rose he threw out an angry string of mutters which quickly gained volume until they were audible. "My father is dead and gone and is therefore of no further use to me. Again!"

He rushed the master again. A fatal flaw Grievous noted. Only get angry if you were one who could channel anger, and it took years of training to be able to do that. A head on charge was simply likely to earn you a humiliation at the hands of the master. As happened. It was like seeing the movement of one of his guards, the flawless mechanical execution of a pre-programmed response. The boy went down again. The master sheathed his sword and patted the boy on the shoulder and walked off.

For some time the boy stood quietly and looked around him. He seemed to be close to a moment of despair. But then, in a moment which impressed the watcher, he regained control and steadied himself. Drawing his sword he adopted his ready stance and began the forms and the flows of the swordsman. The watcher was certainly impressed and it occurred to him that this boy in front of him was perhaps worthy of his respect. Another thought occurred. It should have been him who was there teaching his boy.

The sword curved through the air with swift strokes. The young Sheelal held it in both hands as he swung with a much precision as was possible for a youngling of his age. He needed too get better fast. If he didn't it was quite possible that he would no longer be eligible for entrance into the Kaleesh ranger squads that his father had been the instigator, creator and leader of. But until he could be good enough with a blade, that idea was of no use.

"You're grip is slightly off."

Fort a moment he couldn't remember where he had heard that voice before. Then he remembered. The voice belonged to the one who had tried to strangle him the other night.

"I don't need your instructions! Leave me!"

He continued his practice. Even so he could still see out of the corner of his eyes that his father was still there and still watching him.

"What do you want?"

"I can help you if you want to learn."

"Not from you!"

"Well if you think you are good enough then do you want to face off against me?"

The boy snorted in derision. Grievous picked up one of his staffs and took up a martial position, used for fighting with a shoni spear.

"Let's see if you are as good as you think you are."

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How many of you hate me now that I cut off the fight midway but there you go. I want to have time to run over it and work it out properly. It will be up soon.


	11. Chapter 11

Here it is, the other half. I'm sorry about the delay but, things have been a bit busy on my end.

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**Teacher**

The boy attacked in a flurry of blows which came down from every angle and every one of them at high speed. It didn't matter. Grievous spun the staff in a non stop circle and batted every single blow away. With swift smooth strokes he began to force the boy back. Two quick strikes overhead, then one to the side and another across at head height. It said much for the boy's innate skill that he managed to hold them off, even if it was for only a short time. Grievous struck with the speed of a snake and the boy crashed to the ground.

"You need to watch your centre of gravity. It is for that reason that you never attack at too great a speed and you always retreat from an enemy at a measured rate. Never move too fast around the field unless it is for a stroke you intend to see land. Otherwise your opponent will use it to his advantage."

The boy growled to himself.

"Up, we will go again!"

This time the boy waited for him to make the first move. And he did. With unparalleled skill Grievous attacked. Block, block, block, counter, lose sword! Grievous stood back and offered some more advice.

"You need to use the correct grip."

"I do!"

"No you don't. You lose it after a while. A couple of strokes into the fight and you have let it go in favour of one which gives you greater reach." He made a noise which would have been a sigh if it was a mouth he had, or lungs that worked.

"Get me a pair of swords so I can show you if I must."

Now armed with his familiar Lig swords Grievous took up his fighting stance.

"Ready?"

The boy nodded.

"See how my fingers curl around the grip, like so? This is to limit my reach. There are reasons for all of this. If I have too much reach, my opponent is going to use this against me. If I have all that I need, it will be sufficient for me to bring down my opponent. Now we try again!"

They moved back into the combat sequence. With lightning precision Grievous swung again and again, raining blows onto his son who replied in like fashion. The duel was neither fast nor showy, but it was enough. Back and forth they went with quick and subtle strikes that would often trick the viewer into believing it was easy. Grievous had the obvious advantage in his use of a mechanical body which would never tire or grow weary, but he was impressed more and more with each passing second as the boy struggled to keep up with him.

As time wore on Grievous could see that he was gaining more and more of an audience. First it was the children who watched their elder brother learn at the hands of a true master. Then it was the wives who were still wary of the hulking monstrosity who was supposed to be their master. But the boy was foremost in his mind. It was clear whose son he was, Grievous could tell! He fought with the same relentless determination and dogged courage and stubbornness of his father. Regardless if his twisted state, Grievous had not changed in his traits. He was still the unrelenting and dogged adversary that he had always been, and always would be! Even as he fought in this practice he still began to lose himself more and more in the fight! Stroke after stroke, without noticing the state of his pupil Grievous began to attack.

Suddenly the boy stepped back and proffered his sword.

"I can't beat you." He knelt before the warlord. "Every move I make, you counter before I have even finished the form. Every step I take, you close down the avenue. Every feint I make, you penetrate and overrule, and you do it all without even trying! I was wrong." He bowed his head.

"You are _the_ swordmaster!"

Grievous felt himself calm down. Here at his feet was the most worthy pupil he had ever come across! Even his _Izvoshra_ had not been this skilled.

"You acquitted yourself well and held off my attacks for longer than I would have thought possible for someone of your age. Tell me what is your name, my son?"

"Nasomer, my lord!"

"_What do you think you should call your son Qymaen?"_

"_I will name him after the great warrior of the Abesi Cycle, Nasomer. May he be as fearless and fearsome as he!"_

Grievous straightened.

"That is the name I chose for you! Truly you have lived up to it!"

As his clan raised a half hearted cheer, Grievous walked across to where he had laid a bag of his. He reached into it and pulled out something, Nasomer couldn't see what it was exactly. There was a strange sound, a sort of _snap-hiss _and suddenly a glowing blue blade had phased into existence. He turned and Nasomer caught his breath. It was a Lightsaber! Almost automatically, the bodyguards lit their own staffs which crackled with electricity and all of them began to advance.

"Now let me show you a true sword master at work, Nasomer, and keep a close eye. This is what you will become!"

And then Grievous moved!

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I did it again, I know, but I plan to do something different with the next chapter. Anyway, keep reading and reviewing!


	12. Chapter 12

New characters, and I'm doing a retrospective look at Grievous' fight with his Magnaguards

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**Changes**

The ship moved through space with the stars with speed which belied it's power and importance. Onboard a tall, distinguished, silver haired man stood with his hands clasped behind his back and stared at the stars. Despite his rather kindly appearance, this man had an aura of evil about him which was almost solid. He had recently come form one of those long and rather boring meetings which were slowly, but surely forging an alliance together, one that his master would be very pleased to see come to fruition. Out of the holographic projector in the floor in front of him came a sharp keening sound. The signal of an incoming message, obviously from his master. Without a move he activated the hologram receiver. A blue form rose out of the machine as the old man knelt. In front of him was the image of a man clad in a dark cloak that reached all the way to the floor and hooded so that his face was invisible. Whereas the old man had been recognisable as evil, the evil of this apparition was tangible even through the connection.

"My master."

"Lord Tyranus. I trust our new friend and ally, Grievous, is adapting well?"

"Truly my lord. His skills and his dexterity are returning. His skills with a blade are getting better and his use of his enhancements makes him a serious adversary."

"Rise."

Lord Tyranus, also known as Count Dooku, rose.

"You have some doubts, my apprentice."

"Yes. His attachments to his family are reawakening. This could spell some disaster for our plans for him if he loses the will to fight."

Darth Sidious considered this for a brief few moments.

"Send some of your acolytes to kill them then."

The children were all in high spirits as they came bounding into the dining room and leapt into their chairs.

"Did you see when father fought them!" squeaked one of the boys.

"That was totally wicked! I want to be a swordmaster when I grow up!"

"That's not just being a swordmaster, twit, that's being a cyborg!"

"Then I want to be a cyborg when I grow up!"

"If you don't eat well you won't grow up." The mother was quite sharp when it came picking moments to influence her eat up to grow up, philosophy.

"But that was so cool! I loved the bit where he threw one of them into the air and then jumped after it!"

"Yeah, father almost touched the sky!"

"You can't touch the sky!"

"He did!"

"And that bit where he blocked three of the staffs with his lightsaber, at the same time!"

"Does that mean father is a Jedi?"

Silence. Jedi were the ones who had been the source of the problems for this world.

"No. It means he's better than a Jedi." The eldest wife moved quickly to the table and sat down in the midst of the children.

"If you think your father is good now, you should have seen him six years ago when he was in his prime. Nothing could stand in his way, he tore through everything and anything. Even the most dangerous creatures of our forests were nothing more than a distraction to him. He could beat any Jedi hands down." She sighed. "But he couldn't save a planet by fighting. So he did what he needed to do. And it was through sacrifice that he saved us all." Standing she went back to her regular place by the head of the table. "So never forget any of you, that it was for you that your father became a cyborg, that it was for you he left our world to keep us alive. It was for you that he has lost so much."

There was a cough from behind her. Standing there was General Grievous, clad in his cape with his lightsaber clipped to his belt. But more strangely than anything else, his eyes had lost their ferocious glare and were calm and focused. He moved past her to his place at the head of the table. All of them stood as he walked. The he sat at the head of the table and gestured to the rest of them.

"Please sit."

The others sat and some of the other wives brought the food to the table for the lunch. A large platter was placed in front of him. For a moment he looked at it. He couldn't eat. He looked down the table and noted how everyone had frozen with fear at what could be his reaction. For a moment it appeared that he would lose his temper, but instead he stood and walked down the table and dealt out all his food in equal amounts to the children who looked on in mute fascination. Then he turned and left.

"My lord." Grievous turned. "What was that?" she asked.

He was silent for a moment. "When I look in their eyes, they don't see me as something to be exploited or used. I'm not a commodity to them. I am more than that. I am someone to respect for who they are. That is why I can respect them."

He went to leave, but hesitated before he left. "By the way, thank you."

Dooku looked at the two acolytes in front of him.

"Wield the blue blades I gave you. It is imperative that you make him believe that you are Jedi. You don't even need to kill many, just get him angry. Now go. Show no mercy. Give me a maddened fighter with a grudge!"

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That should be enough to get your attention and your interest glands pumping. There will be blood! As usual Please review!


	13. Chapter 13

Sorry about the delay on this. I have a repeat exam next week so I won't be able to upload for a while!

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**Remembrance**

The temples were a familiar sight on Kalee. This one was no exception. It was here that Grievous' eldest wife had brought him.

"What is this?" he was completely in the dark as to the nature of this venture.

She turned to him and looked him straight in the face. "How much do you remember of your former life?"

"Not much."

"Give me details!"

"Why?" he was getting impatient. "Is not my past my own?"

Her tilted head evidenced her frustration. "I am a part of your past. You barely remember me and I am not fully aware you know how you got in the suit."

"That will aid me, how?"

"How much do you remember about Ronderu lij Kummar?"

Silence reigned. It was fortunate for the priest that they had been told to leave the building. Grievous would never have allowed anyone to see him on his knees. For he was on his knees in shock as the very mention of her name brought back memories to him, all of them!

_The young Sheelal crept forward to where he had seen his dream reach it's conclusion. He could here the sounds of a battle going on ahead, then the roar of a wild mummu. In one swift motion he drew out his rifle and readied himself for battle. On and on he pressed until he came across the scene. But he was too late. The battle was doen and the victorious warrior had stood above the kill. Her kill. His eyes took quick note of the mass of unruly hair and the karabacc mask. This was her!_

"_Who are you?" the voice that addressed him was a strong one, it had no sorrows or fears. _

"_I am Qymaen jai Sheelal. More importantly, who are you?"_

"_I am Ronderu lij Kummar. Why do you disturb my on this hunt."_

"_A dream which lead me here. It led to this exact spot. You are the one I dreamt of."_

_Her head tilted to one side. "Do I know you?"_

"_No, but you are the Dreamt One."_

"_And you the Dreamer."_

"_The answer to the riddle."_

"_The Sheelal prophecy."_

"_The saviour of our people from the Huk."_

"_Saviours."_

"_The sword," he gestured to her, "and the gun!" he pointed to himself._

_She smiled. "It's just a myth."_

_He shook his head. "Not any more it's not. Even if it was, we will be able to unite our people and drive back the Huk. We can do it."_

"_What makes you think I can lead forces into battle." She said with a laugh._

"_I believe."_

"That was it." He sat there and stared into space. "I said, I believe. And she followed me. Followed me into the hell that I created for her."

His wife sat nearby. Not speaking, just listening.

"We were not lovers as many suspected, nor were we simple friends. It was as if we were the two sides of the same heart, mind, spirit and soul. Sheelal and Kummar, one and the same. That was why we were unstoppable. We never let one another down. It was when she died through my failure that all hope was lost and the prophecy was undone. All by my hand."

Emotions having been dragged out of his body through persistent torture, Grievous sat in the temple, not saying a word nor moving a muscle. Eventually, his wife rose and whispered into a stillness that magnified her voice.

"Here in this temple you can speak to her yourself. After all, it is she, who has become a goddess."

"What?"

"She has never really died, my lord. She now watches over all of us. Who do you think gave you the strength to do what you needed?"

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This story will end in the next two chapters. Sorry it's so short but it is my first story on the site. Enjoy and please review. I promise the next two will be longer!


	14. Chapter 14

An update that has been coming for some time now.

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The two Dark Jedi sat on board their ship as it cut through the seamless chasm of hyperspace. They carefully examined their new weapons and prepared themselves mentally for the task which was to be set before them. They had been ordered to kill as many of the generals family and to cause as much chaos as was possible. Make a maddened fighter who would seek retribution and carry the grudge throughout their life. A weakness had crept into the perfect leader of the droid armies, a blight that would need to be eradicated if he was to be of further use to them. That was their objective. Destroy the resistance in the general so that he would again be nothing more than a raging ball of fury, a weapon that was only marginally under control. Then he would be unleashed.

"No food."

"Not quite my lord."

Grievous and his chief wife stood in the storing room. Normally there would be plenty of skinned and smoked meats hanging from the ceiling, with racks and racks of breads and fruits that were there to be consumed by the hungry inhabitants. Now they were looking at a practically empty storeroom that was lacking in any meats at all. All that remained here was a few loaves and some fruits. Grievous took all of these in with his eyes.

"Not enough. If this is to be believed we will have run out in two more days. I'm not going to ask about the liquids situation."

"You do not have to. We are well stocked thanks to that well that you left outside."

"I did?"

"Yes you did. Before you went off to the battlefield and subsequently got injured, you arranged the building of a well. It has been a great boon to us."

"Good. That's what it was intended to do. I suggest that we go gathering fruit, I will hunt."

"That's good my lord. We have had no meat in some time now. No one to go hunting for us."

"Nasomer could have." They turned and walked out.

"Nasomer is only twelve my lord."

"Is age any measure? I killed my first Huk when I was ten."

"Those were different times my lord, you have all but destroyed the Huk now. By the way, Nasomer wants another training session with you."

"Another one? He seems to be coming along in leaps and bounds by himself. I'm not a good teacher."

"You did well enough the first time. I think he just wants to show you how good he is."

Grievous made a shrugging gesture. "Alright I guess."

The boy was swinging his swords in tandem in the small training ground behind the house.

"You are improving. Slowly but surely you are getting to the stage where you will be able to face even the best of them and hope to lose with grace."

"Is that all?"

Grievous sat, with a bit of difficulty, on the rocky ground. "My best friend was a real swordsmaster. She was the most incredible fighter I had ever seen. She never lost in single combat. There was never a warrior like her and I believe there will never be another in the future."

"Unless it's you father."

Grievous chuckled quietly. "I only ever managed to lose gracefully to her. She was unbeatable."

"You say was, what happened."

Grievous was silent for some time. It was clear that this boy knew that she was dead, it was impossible not to know. But what he wanted to know was how she had died if she was so good.

"She died because she couldn't fight fifty Huk alone. I should have been there to watch her back. But I wasn't. She died before I could reach her. A Huk warmonger sneaked around behind her while she was focused on those in front of her. When she felt his approach she whirled and it was then that the spear went through her, one of their terrible barbed spears." He took a breath. "And she just looked up at him and hit him in the face. She fell into the sea, and it was as if I'd died with her."

The boy was silent. "What happened to you then?"

Grievous shrugged. "The rest is history," he replied in a non committal voice, "I started on the road that led me to founding this family and becoming what I am today. All changed that day and nothing was ever the same again."

There was a further silence. Then the general recollected himself.

"I'm going out hunting. The rest of the family I want to go and gather fresh herbs, fruit and vegetables. Our larders need restocking. I have been away long enough. When I leave next time I intend to leave you behind better prepared for the harsh winter months in my absence." He turned to his son. "You are coming with me. I intend to teach you all that is necessary for hunting in these tough forests."

The ship exited hyperspace and began to turn towards the planet of Kalee. The general could easily be picked up in the Force. His was a fierce yet subdued presence in the Force. He was away from home then. The two Dark siders grinned to one another and the ship started it's acceleration down into the atmosphere.

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This is the penultimate chapter. It all comes together in the next installment. Again I ask, please review


	15. Chapter 15

Here it is. The largest chapter in the story and the one that finally brings things back into the mainstream continuity. This si why Grievous hates Jedi!

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Grievous had his rifle to his sons shoulder and was giving him the rules of using the slugthrower rifle.

"Keep your eyes straight down the barrel. When the time comes you let the crosshairs lock onto the target and you let the recoil into your shoulder and absorb it as best you can. It hurts a lot though." His voice was never higher than a breath, but Nasomer heard it.

"How do you know?"

"I used this a lot when I was younger."

Nasomer didn't reply but he levelled the gun on the target and slowly squeezed the trigger. There was a boom and the shock rolled down his back in a wave. But the animal was down!

"Good work. We can add this to the other lot we have." Grievous went down to where the animal lay dying on the ground. With one quick movement he stabbed a little dagger into the animals head killing it outright. As he rose to drag it back to where he had put the other creature they had brought down he noticed the smoke.

"You and all your family must be considered traitors to the Republic and treated as such." One of the Jedi intoned as he set fire to the crushed house. They had caused a Force shock wave to pulverize the supports of the house and it had collapsed. Now it was being burned as well.

"Where is your husband and we will let you go and send supplies to rebuild your dwelling."

Rejeva was on the ground writhing in pain. They had tortured her for some time now, and she still had not broken!

"I swear I will never tell you."

"A pity you are so strong minded," one of the Jedi said, "Otherwise we could rip the information out of your head and be done with you."

"You cannot defeat him!"

"We can and we will."

Grievous raced through the jungle feeling the strange sensation of dread eating into his heart. Almost emotionless, he thought bitterly. Nasomer clung to his back as he jumped, crashed and ran through the dense foliage. As he neared the house he saw that his magnaguards were still there.

"Find the others, keep them away from the house as long as you can. I will deal with this!"

He grabbed his weapons bag and dug out two lightsabers. Thumbing them on he turned to Nasomer.

"Stay out of sight until I call for you!"

"I can help."

"I need to do this by myself!"

He turned and ran on.

Rejeva was being held off the ground by one of the two men and they were slowly but surely choking her to death.

"Where is he, for the last time?" one of them said.

"Here!" came the responding challenge.

Before they turned around, and in plain view of the General, they snapped her neck.

Rejeva's eyes turned to him in her final few moments. Those eyes looked right at him in a plea for help before they turned dark and lifeless.

With a scream of rage Grievous threw himself at the Jedi!

They both activated their lightsabers at the same time and attempted to dodge his furious blows. Down they came with horrifying swiftness and lethal precision, lancing through the air with a fury that was palpalable. First his blades spun to strike at the left, then the right! His speed was incredible and his strikes were beyond precision, quick, strong and hard to stop! Then he jumped up on his hands and threw his lightsabers into the air, catching them in his clawed feet and used them to slash rapidly and dexterously about him, easily shrugging off their assault! He leaped off his hands again, flipped, caught his lightsabers in his hand again and smashed them into the ground where one of the Jedi just managed to leap out of the way in time! Grievous ran along the ground at a speed almost faster than the eye could follow, jumped, hit a tree at such speed that it bent and catapulted himself into the air! He met the Jedi halfway up and slashed at him before bulling him to the ground, as they landed he threw the Jedi aside. That would have been fatal to anyone who hadn't got Force strength, even so the Jedi landed hard and Grievous was already attacking the second!

Nasomer was getting bored. He had been told to wait here by his father and he could hear the noise of battle and his father's rage. Then he caught sight of the Jedi flying in the air over the hedges that surrounded the house, then his father coming up and crashing into him. Now Nasomer knew that his father had the battle well in hand. What if he were to creep closer and see his father in true fighting form! It would be class. But he had better go armed. He picked up the rifle, slung it over his shoulder and then his eyes fell on the bag his father carried his lightsabers in. He grinned to himself. Rummaging through it he found one, a big long one with lots of buttons on it. He reached up to one end where there was an activation stud. He thumbed it on and it flared a bright red! Now the fight was even.

Grievous easily dodged the stroke of one of the Jedi and his saber was placed between the seconds blow and his back. He spun and drove one of his feet into the side of the first kicking him easily out of range. He turned to the second and swept in two strikes, one high, one low! The Jedi opted to jump out of reach, up and over his head. As he landed he attempted to strike the general from behind only to find that the lightsabers of the general were in the way! Grievous suddenly began to apply pressure to the sabers! The Jedi was forced to apply Force Strength to his arms to prevent them being pushed back, but that didn't stop Grievous! He began to stalk forward, driving him back step by step! The second tried to attack from another side, but Grievous simply took one of his sabers away and blocked him too. Now he was pushing them both back!

Nasomer sneaked around the house to where he could see the fray properly. Grievous was forcing the Jedi back using his powerful legs and his pure strength. Even as he watched Grievous disengaged and jumped in the air. Midway up he flipped, swinging his legs around so that a sudden weight shift carried him even higher! When he came down his sabers were blurred into circles that scythed through the air chopping! He bounced off his hands and landed in a crouch that enabled him to strike in any direction at all! Nasomer watched with open mouth until his gaze was drawn to the only unmoving thing in a flurry of moving bodies. It was his mother! Rejeva lay there completely still, eyes unseeing and lungs unmoving. She was dead.

Grievous felt the Force blow smash into him and hurl him backwards. He twisted and landed easily on the ground. One of the Jedi ran towards him! Now for a death, he thought. There was a scream as out of cover Nasomer came running holding a red lightsaber over his head! No, he thought, don't use your anger! Suddenly he had to defend himself from a flurry of blows from the Jedi he had foolishly forgotten in his distraction! In blind rage Grievous blocked with both blades, unsnapped one of his extra arms and punched him in the stomach! The Jedi doubled up and Grievous heard something snap with a satisfaction. He drew back another hand and he punched down right through the man's skull! Shaking his fist loose he turned and one of his nightmares unfolded before his eyes!

Nasomer threw himself at his enemy using all his skills to attack the Jedi. A Kaleesh swordmaster, with a pair of cortosis swords could possibly have managed it, but not an inexperienced child with a weapon he knew nothing of. Nasomer managed two or three successful blows before he was thrown flat on his back and a foot clamped over his throat!

"Hold it right there General!" the Jedi called, "Move and I swear I will kill your son!"

Grievous froze. "This has nothing to do with any of my family, you wanted me, here I am!"

"Not good enough General. You see, you killed my friend, and you know the penalty for murdering a Jedi."

"He killed my wife, worse he tortured her!"

"She was obstructing justice."

"This is not justice! I swear to you I will take a revenge so great it will be long remembered in the history of the galaxy!"

The Jedi grinned. "You don't dare try anything. I could end his life right now, the only thing that stands in the way is my patience!"

At that point Nasomer kicked him in the groin and sprang to his feet! He grabbed the lightsaber and slashed at the Jedi. The blade swept down in a dangerous arc, but the Jedi caught it, twisted it out of his grip and stabbed! Grievous had been on the move ever since the boy had grabbed the lightsaber, but even as he reached his son he knew he was too late. The lightsaber carved a deep furrow through his torso and it was a lethal wound. Nasomer, named after the hero of the Abesi cycle, had lived up to his name. Heroic, but ultimately tragic.

Grievous hurled himself into the battle with abandon! The Jedi had to throw all of his Force speed and concentration into his defence as blow after blow began to rain down on his arms! Two slashed from above, three from below, hammering strikes in at his sides, a low sweep! All came in at a speed that was only hinted at by Grievous who used every strength that he had! Vengeance had come alive and found its avatar in him. Moving at a speed that was almost too fast to follow the combatants went right around the arena where, ironically, Grievous had trained his son to wield the traditional sword. Grievous let his upper body break into a deadly lacerating whirlwind of light as he spun! Midway through the sin he let his wrists spin too! Out of nowhere Grievous leapt, his spin halted and came down on the Jedi's arm! Grievous felt a twinge of satisfaction when he heard something crack!

The general stepped back from his wounded opponent and prepared for the killing stroke! The Jedi looked up at him with hatred in his eyes.

"You can kill me, but the Republic will hunt you to your death! You can kill me, but other Jedi will come after me! Eventually one of them will kill you!"

Grievous considered this for a brief moment. "They will, that's true. They will send fleets after me, they will send special troops to kill me, Jedi will hunt me. All of this is true." He leaned in close to the Jedi, "But this I swear to you, when I am through the Galaxy will tremble at my name, Jedi will cringe in fear, children will know me as a nightmare. Your Republic will be brought to its knees by me and it will suffer at my hands, the way you have let these people suffer, have let my family suffer, they who are innocent! And so your innocent shall also suffer!"

Grievous straightened. His right arm separated into two, each hand holding a lightsaber. Crossing over each other he closed the scissors of light once. The Jedi's head rolled on the floor.

He shed his cloak and went to work. He took both his wife's and his son's bodies and he placed them together. Then slowly, and entirely by himself he built a pyre. On it he laid them both side by side. Then he knelt and prayed to the Goddess Ronderu lij Kummar that she would gather them and lead Rejeva and Nasomer jai Sheelal to Paradise with her. Also he prayed that she would watch over the remains of his family, protecting them from any of the outside evil that was likely to come to this world. He set up a plinth, carved a message into it, and stood. It was a simple message, but it was from what was left of his soul. Then he turned away. He had a war to take to the enemy of his home! And he had a promise to make good on!

When his family returned to the house, they found the message and the ready made pyre. The pyre was in due course lit, but the marker remained for all time on the spot where they had been burned. The message read,

_Bury the dead. They have died with honour._

_They who had least to hope for, and all to lose,_

_Gave all they had for me, and for us._

_It is my shame that I have not yet proven worthy of their sacrifice._

_But I will remember it evermore._

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	16. Chapter 16

I have reached the end of my first full story. This is the epilogue. My thanks to all reviewers

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Grievous gathered his guards, returned to his shuttle and was at Geonosis when the Clone Wars started. He fought relentlessly in the war killing thousands, destroying worlds and becoming the terrifying monster that was all that the Confederacy stood for in the Republics eyes. He made good on his promise to make the Jedi cringe in fear and the Republic cower. He never discovered that Dooku had set him up and died, eventually, in combat against the greatest Jedi of the era, Obi Wan Kenobi. He never returned to Kalee, although he did send a special transport there in the third year of the war. What it contained is up for debate, but the General never said, and no one ever knew.

Count Dooku continued to dupe and mislead people for the rest of his life. He finished the alliance that became the Confederacy of Independent Systems and started the Clone Wars on Geonosis. A Sith Lord he continued to wreck havoc against the Republic by various means and was the political leader of the Confederacy until his death. He died at the hands of Anakin Skywalker, later Darth Vader, who murdered Dooku at the behest of Dooku's master Palpatine, aka Darth Sidious. Thus the master of deception was dealt with by treachery. He was succeded as leader by Grievous.

The planet Kalee was not a combatant in the Clone Wars, although it was nominally in the Confederacy. Grievous himself demanded that it be ignored by the leadership and be given nothing but a nominal membership. The Huk threat was ended by the General who obliterated their last colony with a droid army. The Sheelal family left the ruins of their big house and moved into the smaller family houses that they had occupied before. Not until the children had grown up did they unite as a clan once more. Grievous became a deity when word of his death reached them and his family were given a high status in Kaleesh society. All the children became warriors and skilled hunters and established their own families. Especially the youngest by several years, Mordacar. Later one of his sons, Vergase would join the Galactic Alliance and fight in the Swarm War. His story is yet to be told…

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Any questions?


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